Death Of Me
by Shiplocked
Summary: Set after reichenbach fall"I need to find him!To hold him.To love him,to make love to him.For him to just understand how i feel-Felt."I tried to hold the tears as I collapsed.I couldn't do this.Not now. "And what makes you think I don't?". . .That voice.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hi! My first attmept at Fanffic :/ I really hope you will give it a chance. I have many ideas with what I want to do with it, BUT REALLY NEED YOUR COMMENTS AND REVEIWS! Thankyou! Have a great day!**_

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><p>John could hear the ringing in his ears again. It was loud, too loud, and almost painful. He needed to wake up. He <em>had<em> to wake. He couldn't do this anymore, not again. But nonetheless the images came shooting behind his eyes, for the second time that night.

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><p><em>Sherlock standing on top of the roof, smiling down at him. . .<em>

_He's on his phone but he can't hear._

_Saying such horrible things . . . it's a lie, John. All a lie. Not real. None of it._

_Sherlock's crying . . . Was he crying?-No, no he can't be. Sherlock doesn't cry. It's a bad joke. It's all a big, wrong misunderstanding._

_John wanted to go to him. Run to him. To run up that building and hold onto Sherlock for dear life. For him to stop this. To tell him it's okay. To stop doing this every night to him. _

_Trying to run towards Sherlock was futile. He just got further away. Stop, John. Think._

_It's a lie, John. All he said. All he is. All he __**wa**__s._

_He's dropped the phone again now. You know you're running out of time. But you can change it... How can I change what happens this time? _

_He needs to know before it's too late-But know what? He's moving again. Sherlock just stop! Need to think._

_Sherlock moves towards the edge slowly, looking down expectantly, again._

_No, no, no, no. Not again. Please not again. I can't. Please! Please? STOP IT. Just stop it. I can't watch this again. Not again._

_Sherlock suddenly pushes himself off. . . And for a moment just a moment, everything is still. I have time._

_Time freezes, and he is just hangs in the air .Like a rag doll. Completely still. _

_And the crushing hope comes rushing up my throat, like bile. He can be saved. I can save him._

_But then it stops. And time seems to be moving at triple speed._

_Seeing him falling, again. Fast._

_Arms and legs flaying about him in ruff helpless movements. _

_Always so elegant._

_He looks up and stares right at me as he falls. I could stare at him forever. He smiles again and-_

_BANG._

_He hits the ground. He stops falling._

_Too late again, Johnny boy. Too late._

_He just lays crumbled in a heap on the ground. _

_Just a mess on the floor. Everything was blood. It was all over his hands._

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><p>I woke violently and threw myself off the bed and onto the floor, stumbling. My breathing was heavy and erratic and I could feel my heart still pounding loudly out. Half awake I started to stand, stretching the crick out of my muscles.<p>

Drying off the wetness on my cheek and couple of deep breathes later; I started to feel normal again. I walked over to the door dodging the mess and threw it open heading for the kitchen. I needed a drink.

I opened the cupboards looking for anything remotely strong. I sighed; I really desperately needed to go shopping. No food was one thing, but this? Defeated, I walked slowly out of the kitchen and sat on the sofa. There was absolutely nothing to do. I looked around the room, in search of something, anything. I really couldn't go to sleep again, risking dreaming. I had read all the books in the house, the ones I was interested in anyway. And I had thrown the Telly out. I'm just starting to think that might not have been a good move. But it had, at the time, made me feel slightly better. All that rubbish the media was sprouting . . . Stupid blighters.

Now I understand how _he _always got so bored. I looked at the wall and smiled. Somehow it just didn't seem appealing to shoot at.

I sighed again more loudly this time and rubbed my tired eyes. I don't ever before remembering being this numbingly bored before. Well I could. But that was before _him_. Before _he_ came gallivanting into my life.

I began hunting for my phone, walking right past _his _room, ignoring it as I usually did.

Where was that phone?

"Aha!" i shouted loudly as i saw it camped underneath a pile of books under my bed.

I couldn't really remember the last time I'd seen it. I skipped the few messages sent by Harry. And looked for Lestrade's number.

**Finally want to take you up on that offer. **

**Meet me at the Union for few drinks?**

**JW**

I scratched my head nervously. I hadn't 'gone out_, out _'in so long. I was contemplating texting Geoff to never mind but I heard a 'DA-ding' and looked down.

**Great! **

**I get off in about an hour. **

**See you at ten.**

**GL**

I smiled and pulled my hair a little. Okay, ShowTime.

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><p><em><strong>What did you think?<br>me gusta? Please leave a comment ;D**_

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	2. Chapter 2

_**I have to say, im so pleased with the feedback! Well you know . . . the 'visitors' and all that! Thankyou so much! Seriously chuffed. Thankyou all for the Favs and alerts!**_

_**And Thankyou especially to:  
><strong>_**aishaduh- **_**I'm glad you likey! And dido, *sighs* my heart is officially dead after watching the latest 'Sherlock' ):  
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I showered quickly and threw on any old thing on. Still damp, I padded across the hall to look at my reflection in the mirror. I wasn't expecting my hair to be much that much longer . . . I probably should go to the barbers soon. I tucked the ends behind my ears roughly.

I looked at my watch, almost quarter to ten. Was there time for a quick shave?

No time. I smiled.

I rocked back on heals trying to diffuse my excitement. _Why was I so excited?_ I took quick calculated breaths.

It wasn't like we were doing anything that 'thrilling'. Probably have a few pints and just catch up . . .

This was _really_ only proving my point.

That, I _really_ needed to start leaving the flat more often, if I got this worked up over a couple of 'beers'.

I could feel butterflies bubbling at the bottom of my gut again. My smile stretched as I flattened down my hair.

God, calm it John. It's only Geoff.

As much as I liked the bloke, it wasn't really the prospect of 'Lestrade' that was getting me so excited . . . just the ludicrous prospect of actually going out for once. I think I deserved it . . . ?

Well, who cares anyway? I was going out . . . So _there_.

I left a quick scribble on Mrs Hudson's door, briefly explaining tonight's situation. _I wouldnt be hearing about her bad hip tonight._

Finally, I grabbed my coat and keys and headed for the door. It was 'Now or never'.

The pub was extremely busy. Ridiculously busy.

It practically glowed with London's blushed faces and slurred words.

Drinks were spilt as people rushed passed in a frenzy to get to their chosen destinations.

Shouts and laughter could be heard all over, it was practically infectious.

This place was screaming 'life'. It's what I needed. What I yearned for. What I needed to grasp at. Yet, I still I found myself hesitating at the entrance.

Geoff had been great through all this. We may have not talked as much as we used to- but that was bound to happen; the lack of demands for the 'great John Watson' to solve 'mysterious murders' wasn't helping either. . .

Lestrade had made sure that I knew he would 'still be around, and should text him anytime for anything. Even just for a quick chat'. He was good like that, quite loyal, kind off.

It _was_ plainly obvious Geoff still had his doubts about _him_, but to be fair, who didn't nowadays? Even _his _most loyalist fans had taken three steps back.

"John, Mate! Over here!" Geoff's booming voice could have been recognised anywhere. . .

_You've been spotted_. I looked over slowly and waved. There was no point being a chicken shit now. You invited him out, remember? I pulled a smile on my face as I walked over to the DI. Thankfully he had gotten good seats and a table, so I knew my leg wouldnt play up this evening.

Geoff looked well. He was still wearing his 'work clothes' mind, so he really must have just rushed over after his shift. He looked quite tired, but apart from that Lestrade looked like he was 'glowing'. He seemed suspiciously happy and not just to see John. New girlfriend, maybe?

"John! It's been too long Mate, too long." We embraced roughly and broke apart just as quickly, as men do. "So what have you been up to?" He passed me a beer along the table; I nodded in thanks at his 'buy' and sat down.

"Nothing much really, been abit bored recently. Thinking about looking for a job again actually but yeah, same old, same old. What about you?"

"Bored, yeah? Well me and a few guys from work are going out on Sunday, if you wannna tag along? Just a few pubs, nothing major." I took a sip of my drink, it was warm, my favourite.

"This Sunday? Hm, I'm not sure what I'll be doing but I'll see- anyway isn't Sunday abit ambitious? What about work?" I asked as I took of my coat; it was very stuffy in here.

"Oh no, it's the bank holiday this Monday isn't it." He laughed, and rubbed his eyes. He looked like he needed a couple days off.

"Even for the police?" That seemed abit daft.

"Yes John, surprisingly we get breaks off to from time to time-"

"Quick warn the others!" I mock shouted.

"_And_ besides it's our team's slot this time, to have _this_ bank off." Geoff said as he waved a waitress over.

"Ah, so you take turns? Right, right so you- What! What are you smiling at? " John stopped talking noticing that Geoff was leaning back in his chair, looking quite smug for some reason.

"You seem better John." Geoff said bluntly, giving me a somewhat critical eye as he took a swig of his beer.

I shrugged, not sure as how to proceed. The atmosphere seemed to change. "I _am_ getting there, Geoff. It's hard you know." He nodded again in what could only be sympathy.

"Yeah I could imagine . . . Even _I_ miss that bastard sometimes." I laughed with him that time. It was one of the few reasons I got on so well with Geoff. He didn't Pussy foot around me like so many others had tried to do.

I felt someone brush beside me and I looked down at the menu unprepared to order at the waitress.

Quickly finding something suitable I looked up again, only to find a very stiff and awkward looking Geoff.

My gaze slowly travelled to the left to land on a very smart, umbrella clad Mycroft Holmes.

"Good afternoon, John. I trust you are enjoying yourself?" His eyes only left Lestrade's for mine for the briefest of seconds and then went straight back to Geoff's.

I tried to sound calm and collective but probably failed miserably. "What are you doing here, Mycroft?"

He didn't bother sparing me another glance. "Was just in the neighbourhood and thought I should pop in for a quick . . . _hello_." Geoff seemed to visibly squirm under the pressure of Mycroft's gaze. What was that about?

"Yes, well you've said your hellos... " It practically hurt for John to stare at Mycroft for too long. He couldn't help but pin some of the blame for _what happened_, on Mycroft. If Mycroft hadn't told Moriaty all that stuff about-_about_ _him_, then things wouldnt have gotten so out of hand and . . ._ he_ wouldnt have done what he did-_had done_.

I coughed loudly hoping to shake of some of the emotions building in my chest.

Mycroft just stood there, practically draining the room.

I felt my blood begin to boil. I decided to ignore him, since he seemed adamant to stay and plus I really didn't want to 'deck' him the face . . . _well, on second thought-_

"How is your new case coming along, Detective Inspector?" I sighed loudly. When would he shove off?

"Uhh-It's uh going good. Very good. How did you . . .? Never mind. We've uhm, narrowed down-_things_ and such . . . so yeah, going good. Have a linking it might be the brother. So it's good?" Geoff seemed to be practically whispering by the end of his sentence.

If been asked, I could never recall times in my life were I had witnessed the DI become so undone before . . . Was he feeling alright? His face seemed redder than usual too . . . Mycroft seemed to be practically feeding of the man's displeasure. He smirked as he played with his umbrella, listening to the DI's rambles.

He leaned forward suddenly pressing his hands onto the table and in front of Geoff. Their faces inches apart. "If you ever need any 'sort of help' again with your cases', I would be more than happy to give some form of assistance to you. . ." He let his sentence trail off for whatever reason. Geoff seemed to be twitching. What on earth?

"I um, don't think that will be very necessary Mr Holmes since my team has-"

"Mycroft." The taller man said quickly, not moving an inch from Geoff.

"What?" The statement seemed to throw Lestrade of balance.

"My name. Call me Mycroft." No way. He didn't. Did he just wink? Lestrade just nodded numbly and moved back to lean against his chair in defeat.

Pleased for whatever reason, Mycroft stood up swiftly whilst righting his umbrella, still smiling devilishly at Geoff.

"Good evening, Lestrade." Geoff made no move to comment back, Mycroft smirked again. "John." He said in a means of goodbye, turning towards me in a quick movement. I nodded back, not really quite ready for words after what I just witnessed. Mycroft then made his swift departure out of the pub, and John could see from the window, into an expensive looking black car.

John turned slowly towards Geoff. He was about to speak but before he got the chance, Lestrade held up his hand roughly, stopping whatever it was John was about to say. John just raised his eyebrow, a skill he had mastered from _him_.

"Don't, John. Just don't. I . . ." His face seemed to be returning back to its natural colouring. "Don't." He said again simply, John nodded. He could take a hint. Whatever the hell just happened, Geoff obviously didn't want to talk about. That was fine with John, he could respect that. He would find out eventually anyway.

"Okay" I said. The DI looked up and smiled gratefully. John spent the rest of the evening trying to get horrible mental pictures out of his head.

After they had finished their pub grub and a few pints John felt he was ready to dose off, Lestrade however not so much.

"So, you written anymore of your blog. Haven't posted anything in a while." I looked up alarmed.

"You still read that rubbish?" I faked laughed. "Nah, I- uh don't do that anymore."

"Why?" Lestrade asked confused.

"Nothing happens anymore, to me, _without him_." I looked down hoping he would catch the hint, like I had done previously for him.

He got on quickly.

As we stumbled out of the pub giggling, Lestrade received a text which then thus made him cry, actual tears with laughter. He wouldn't show me who from but I had an inkling . . .

"Aah!" I yelled loudly, watching my breath in the cold air. I yelled again, just because I could. It somehow made me feel strangely better, or maybe that was just the beer's talking?

I could feel Lestrade moving sluggishly behind me as he rang for a taxi; still giggling at the mysterious text he had received. I sat on the curb as I waited, and was soon followed suit by Geoff.

"John," He said swinging his head into my direction. How much did we drink? "I was thinking . . ."

"Don't hurt yourself." I said quickly giggling again.

Geoff mock frowned but carried on "I been noticing that you, you don't say _his_ name anymore." It took a few seconds to connect the dots.

"Oh." Was all i said to that. What did he expect me to say? Yes, Geoff. I no longer say _his_ name. _Good deduction_. It hurts to think about _him _let alone talk about _him_. How the fuck would you feel? Do you understand how I feel? My body actually aches all the time from just the whisper of his name. . . What do you think happened to my Telly?

I wanted to scream and cry all this at Lestrade. But that wouldn't have been fair. Geoff was just concerned and was just being abit tactless because of the drinks we had. I could appreciate that.

"John, it has been months now. Maybe it's time for . . .? " Geoff whispered, for whatever reason, Maybe trying to sound less annoying? I sighed hoping he would stop soon. I didn't want him to ruin this night, it had been fun.

"Time for what Geoff? Time to get over it? Over him? Trust me, if I could I would." I said quickly losing my patience. I huffed trying to rein in my anger, it was an unwanted feeling.

"Well john," He continued oblivious to my inner struggle. "I'm just saying. If you can't talk to me about it, maybe you should, i dunno, talk to yourself about it?"

"What are you talking about?" I said rolling my eyes at his nonsense.

"You obviously have things to say, John. Whatever they may be . . . And the quicker you say them and get it off your chest, the quicker you can . . . ya know." _Get over him? _My head was starting to hurt. "Just think about it, John. It makes sense. . . He isn't coming back, John. Uh, John?"

Enough. "Okay Geoff." Just shut up now please you daft man. He did. We stayed in uncomfortable silence till our taxi came and on the ride home.

As I almost fell out of the taxi I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up. "Sorry." Geoff said. It was simple and all that needed to be said. I smiled and nodded 'no hard feelings'. He hadn't known what he was talking about.

"G'night, Geoff." I slammed the door loudly and waved goodbye and turned towards the door, falling several times.

I stumbled up the creaky stairs, taking it slowly as to not to wake Mrs Hudson. I couldn't help but think about what the DI had said. Would it help? I mean, _really_ help? To talk about my emotions and _things. _I shuddered at the thought, and then smiled. How incredibly 'British' of me, oh heaven forbid I should discuss how I felt. I giggled quietly as I finally made it to the flat door.

As I locked up again, I took of my shoes and coat. I stopped and looked about the room, _so many memories._ I probably wasn't doing myself any favours staying here or I wasn't helping the 'healing' process, Mrs Hudson would say. I sighed again.

It seemed all I did nowadays was 'sigh' and 'huff', speaking was extremely overrated.

I did one more look across the room and felt that familiar pang.

I would think about moving tomorrow. But for now, sleep was more important.

I crash landed on the sofa and tried to get comfortable, praying that my nightmares would give me the night off, just this once.

. . . No such luck.

_**So what did you think? Do you like we're Im going with this?**_

_**What did you think of the little Mycroft/Lestrade moment? *Giggles* I really tried to stay true to the characters, was it convincing?  
>As always please tell me what you think. Your advice only makes the story that much better!<strong>_

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